


Bound

by chipperdyke



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, No Happy Ending Fest, No Smut, Shadowlands, World of Warcraft: Shadowlands Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chipperdyke/pseuds/chipperdyke
Summary: Sylvanas parlays with Jaina once she's taken to the Maw, hoping the memory of their long-dead romance might grant her the chance to explain everything.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little wish fulfilment on my part. May be continued depending on what else happens in Shadowlands and whether anyone else wants to read this story.

Sylvanas Windrunner stared into the scrying stone as her Valkyr carried the unconscious woman into the chamber she'd prepared. She'd instructed the Valkyr to be as gentle as possible with the young mage, but was not surprised that force had been required to take her. She was, after all, one of the Alliance's strongest mages. The Valkyrs were not pleased with Sylvanas's insistence that the mage not be disarmed. 

It took a long time for the mage to wake, but Sylvanas was patient. The first thing she reached for after stirring into consciousness was her staff. 

She looked around the chamber. Torghast was cold, so Sylvanas had set up a large brazier in the corner of the room. There was an armchair, simple but comfortable, and a single, tall shelf filled with novels beside the armchair. Across, there was a cot piled high with blankets and pillows. It was as comfortable Sylvanas could make a chamber in the most dangerous prison that existed. 

The mage moved immediately to the armchair, and Sylvanas was relieved that she did not seem to have sustained any significant injuries from her capture. She sat at the chair, surveying the room keenly, gripping her staff like it was a lifeline. She began casting, but whatever spell she had planned sputtered quickly away. Doubtless she was drained from the battle. And magic in the Maw was different - even Sylvanas felt it. 

Sylvanas measured the timing. On the one hand, it was probably a good idea to give the mage time to become at least a little comfortable. But the longer she dallied, the more likely it was that the mage would regain her strength. That she'd divine some ingenious way to escape - if not from the Maw, at least from that room, or from Torghast itself perhaps. Sylvanas could not wait so long that she risked that. 

The mage stood and went to the side table. She poured a glass from the pitcher of water and dumped out the rest under the brazier, then made a few gestures above the pitcher. Her magic sputtered out without producing anything. Sighing, the mage tried a different spell on the glass. Of course they could do worse than poison her - surely she knew that. Still, she was cautious. 

She must have been satisfied by the results of her investigation, and drank the water down thirstily. Then she moved to the shelf, scanning the titles. Sylvanas searched her face for any sign of recognition, but she was impossible to read. 

Finally, Sylvanas turned away from the scrying stone. "Is the soup prepared?" she asked the mage across the room.

"Yes," the undead croaked. 

Sylvanas nodded curtly. "And it has been tasted?"

The mage cast a glance around himself. "Not many of the living around to try it, Dark Lady," he reminded her. 

"It will have to do," Sylvanas muttered. She ladled it out with her own bare hands, observing with some surprise that they were shaking a little. 

Jaina was not their only chance. No, she'd secured one or two other contingencies, just in case. But this mattered. It could go well, or it could go badly, and Sylvanas wished very deeply that it would go well. 

_ You are doing this for a good reason, _ she reminded herself, trying unsuccessfully to steady her hand. She watched as the soup made little waves around the vegetables and chunks of meat.  _ Jaina will listen to you. If she does not, she will live to regret it.  _

Sylvanas took a deep breath and gestured to the Mawsworn posted at the doors to unlock them. This was one of the few rooms with real doors - not jail bars - selected specifically for that reason.

When Sylvanas stepped through the doors, Jaina was already on her feet in a battle crouch, brandishing her staff. She took Sylvanas in and then looked quickly at the doors, observing them deeply even as they shut behind Sylvanas with an arcane fizzle. 

Sylvanas put the soup down on the table, feeling claustrophobic. She'd imagined this moment many times. She'd stood just here, facing the brazier, and tried to plan out the perfect strategy, the ideal first moves. It had been a long and difficult journey that had led her here, to this moment. Much hinged on it going well.

What Sylvanas had not anticipated was the effect of taking in a breath to speak. The air was permeated by the scent of  _ her, _ and just like that she was taken somewhere entirely else.

_ Jaina's eyes flashing blue, her smile brilliant in the sunlight. Skin sliding against skin, wetness rippling around Sylvanas. Jaina's breath against her ear, sweat and tears and laughter. The silk of a ball gown. Jaina's taste, salty and heady, exhilarating. Hearts racing as one. Her kiss.  _

Sylvanas breathed out and then in again, resisting the urge to close her eyes. The assault of memories lessened, and then faded, and Jaina was still standing there, looking nearly quizzical, still ready to strike although they both knew she had little power now.

"I hope you find the accommodations - adequate, at least?" 

Jaina's lips peeled back into a snarl, and Sylvanas was reminded of the last time she saw her - outside the Undercity, as she and her Forsaken were making their final stand two years ago. The expression was almost identical. 

She allowed her own lips to curl into a sardonic smile. "Please. Sit. We have much to discuss."

"Like why you'd send five Valkyrs to assassinate me? For example?"

Her voice. Sylvanas had forgotten its sound.

A summer day in Dalaran. Jaina breathed,  _ Marry me, _ by the fountain over sandwiches. The recovered memory sluiced through something in Sylvanas's chest, dousing, and she felt her ears droop without her permission. She always thought that the ring she'd found on a chain around her neck when she recovered her body was a promise ring, not an engagement ring. Had Sylvanas said yes? Did Jaina have a ring from her? Did she keep it, even now? 

Sylvanas panicked and skipped to Planned Contingency Three. "You loved me once."

"So your spies have finally uncovered that valuable piece of intel," Jaina spat bitterly. 

"I remember, actually," Sylvanas mumbled, caught off-guard. How could Jaina possibly know that Sylvanas's memory was damaged? 

Jaina lowered her staff, finally getting the hint that Sylvanas was here to talk. "Do not come here wearing that face, Banshee, and think that somehow it gives you an advantage over me."

Sylvanas did close her eyes then, staggering a little. "You gave up on me when I died," she said, going completely off-script. Jaina raised an eyebrow, and her lips thinned in an expression that was utterly unfamiliar to Sylvanas. "You went to Kalimdor. I remember."

Jaina's voice was steely. "Sylvanas died. You wear her body, but you are not her. And I am not interested in being interrogated by a stranger about ancient history."

"I'll answer your questions," Sylvanas offered. Her hands felt more numb than usual. She hadn't even asked Jaina to help her yet. 

"There are no questions worthy of your answer, Banshee," Jaina growled. 

Sylvanas blinked, breathed in. "You are in the afterlife. One of the - the zones. The Maw. The irredeemable souls are tortured here for all eternity by the Jailer, and the most dangerous of those are kept in this tower. Torghast. There are other zones as well. But the Jailer -"

"You kidnap me, and then expect me to have a civil conversation with you?" Jaina scoffed. 

"The Jailer, and all the rest, are trapped by their circumstance. Jaina, I have -"

_ "Don't  _ call me that," Jaina interrupted again. 

Sylvanas sighed, started over. "To answer your questions, although you will not ask them - you are not dead. And you're not alone. I have also fetched Anduin, Thrall, and Bloodhoof here. I hope to lure your champions - the afterlife is  _ broken, _ and I have a plan to fix it!"

Jaina's eyes filled with such hatred that Sylvanas actually took a step backward. 

"If I had thought I was alone here, perhaps I would have stuck around," Jaina told her slowly. She raised her hand, began tracing runes.

Sylvanas reached out a bare hand and caught Jaina's in it, interrupting her. Jaina's eyes jumped up to meet hers, and Sylvanas remembered the look of her eyes across the ballroom on the night they met. She thought she'd amuse herself by distracting Kael'Thelas's date. It had been Sylvanas who was made the fool that night, and many nights after.

"I always told you I was a monster. You couldn't find it in the history books, so you never believed it could be true. Do you believe me now?"

"Will you let me go?" Jaina said in frustration, but she did not pull her hand away. Sylvanas wrapped her fingers more securely around Jaina's, lacing their forefingers together. 

"I will let you leave, if you are so clever. But know that you cannot escape the Maw. Nobody can. Now that we are here, we will stay until you or one of the others discovers a way to escape. When your champions come to your aid, they will also come to ours, despite whatever else you may convince yourselves of." Sylvanas rubbed her thumb against Jaina's palm, and Jaina looked down at their hands dazedly. 

"Unsurprisingly, the rest of the Maw is not as comfortable as this room. Stay," Sylvanas pled. "Let me explain the rest."  _ Help me remember everything. _

"No," Jaina said, and she pulled away, beginning to trace the runes again.

"When we meet again, I hope it is not at the heads of opposing armies," Sylvanas said drily.

"It will be," Jaina told her. "I will fight you until you are defeated, Banshee." She paused, letting the runes shine in the air before her fingers. "I did seek you out. I sought  _ Sylvanas _ out. Before I went to Kalimdor, I found you. You almost killed me - I was barely able to escape."

Jaina reached out and put her hand through the runes, beginning to vanish, but she kept her eyes on Sylvanas expectantly.

Sylvanas bit her lip, finding absolutely no response. 


End file.
